Promises
by Desbelleschoses
Summary: Riza's grudge against Roy for leaving culminates in the middle of the desert. Between assaults, gunfire, and insurgents, Riza, Roy, and Maes forge the bonds of comrades in arms.
1. Chapter 1

The desert sand whipped into the air, carried by a sudden gust of wind. It gave a low hiss as the sediment parted around piles of rubble; its cry carried throughout the ghost town. The sun reflected off of those surfaces on which fire had transformed the ground into glass, some of which lay shattered around a rift in the earth. On the outskirts of the ruins stood a tower, solid amidst the destruction. The sunlight caught there, as well, this time bouncing off polished metal. Riza reached up to wipe the sweat from her brow with her sleeve, her legs aching. Dammit, she was a human, not a machine. At least, that was what the pain reminded her. Exhausted, she withdrew the barrel of her gun and let her back slide down the cool stone wall, thankful that this post had a roof over her head for once. Her fingers fumbled with the lid of her canteen, and she cracked her knuckles against her palm when she managed the latch. The momentary rush of endorphins soothed her joints.

She lifted the canteen to her lips, greedily drinking the water inside. Try as she might, she could never ration her water the way the soldiers were encouraged to do. Even though the water was unnaturally warm and stank of metal, it was precious to her. Besides, she had long since become accustomed to the taste of iron in her mouth.

A sudden noise from below almost made her drop the canteen. She shut it quickly, unwilling to make that mistake. Small bits of rubble crunched noisily underneath her guest's feet. Her hand reached to her holster. She pulled back the safety as footsteps echoed up the tower. Damn it, she wasn't going to die today. From above, she glimpsed Amestrian blue underneath white. She ground her teeth, gun at the ready. It didn't take her long to learn that the uniform meant nothing when it came to allies or enemies. A woman isolated in a tower was easy prey; that is, if she didn't fight back. When she glimpsed dark hair beneath the hood, it made her sick to her stomach that she took this as an identifier of race. The Ishvalans had taken to looting uniforms off of bodies to pass unnoticed. Their white hair was the most noticeable tell, and she had been trained to seek it out.

The figure rounded the last landing, and she moved away from the stairwell. _Not today_. She stood defensively in front of her rifle. She'd be damned if they used her own weapon against her. "Show yourself!" she demanded as the man – yes, clearly a man – ascended the last few steps. The stranger pulled back his hood. Roy Mustang looked at her through tired eyes. One, two, three seconds passed before Riza slowly lowered her pistol, the safety still disengaged. In her wise mind, she knew Roy wouldn't… well, the Roy she knew wouldn't… but her survival instinct screamed at her not to trust. In an act of rebellion, her thumb pushed it back into place. The first words to leave her mouth were "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to ask you the same thing." Roy sat down on the hard stone. Riza kept her distance.

"I'm maintaining my post. Clearly."

"That's not what I meant." He reeked of alcohol. "What are you doing… _here_?" He waved his right hand about in the air, emphasizing the location. "When I left, you told me you were going to go to school."

"An academy. I said academy, R- … Major."

His hurt was visible; he wasn't strong enough to hide it. "You shouldn't be here."

"None of us should."

"Quit twisting my words!" Riza refused to shrink back at his outburst. "When I left… You said… Damn it, what happened to moving in with Grumman? Or my aunt? What happened to staying safe? To… to waiting for me?"

"I did." Riza shot back. "For years, I waited in that rotting hellhole, watching my father waste away, waiting for you. And then you came back with all your tired promises. _'Riza, when all of this is over…'_ _'Just a few more months, Riza…' 'When I pass the state alchemist exam…'_ And I waited. I stayed in that lifeless house for you. What did I get? Not. One. Goddamned. Letter. You could have died, and I wouldn't have known! Another ghost in that godforsaken place!"

Roy opened his canteen and took a long drink. Before he was through, Riza snatched it from his hands. She held it, upside down and open, out the edge of the tower, letting the rancid liquid fall to the ground. She threw the canteen back at him. "You think you're righteous in lecturing me, but you can't even do it sober!"

Riza picked up her rifle and slung it across her back. She'd had more than enough for one day. Roy reached out and caught her by the wrist, keeping her from going down the stairs. "I can't…" he stammered, "I can't lose you."

"Then start keeping your word."


	2. Chapter 2

Roy's body shook as he coughed. The grit and dust of the desert was trying to escape his lungs, tearing at his throat in the fight. He plunged a hand into the bucket of water on the floor in front of him, saturating a washrag. Even with the cloth balled tightly in his fist, he had to scrub his skin until it burned to clean himself of soot. His chest and arms suffered the same treatment despite being shielded under his clothing. The sliver of soap lathered in his hands, a precious commodity that Gracia had sent Maes in his last care package. He knew that the request had come from his best friend; it was a guarantee when there was two of something in the box. Roy was too vain to openly ask for anything, but Maes was attentive enough to notice.

His fingernails scraped across his scalp, gathering the ash and oil as he fought the knots with force. When he pulled his hands away, the soap had turned grey in his palms. He shoved them back into the bucket of water before picking up the soap again. When he reached around to the back of his neck, he pulled away several black strands. He was far too young to be losing his hair; he really had to stop pulling at it.

After taking a deep breath, he upended the bucket over his head, relishing the cooling effect it had on his skin. It was one of the few moments of pleasure he had managed to find in this god-forsaken desert. The whole act felt futile as he pulled on the same uniform that he had been wearing that day, feeling it cling to him.

The sun stung his eyes as he stepped outside. He grimaced and squinted, cursing under his breath.

"Yo, Roy!" Maes waved his arm above his head, trying to catch his attention. He had managed to find a coveted area of shade in the shadow of a ruined wall.

Roy felt at least ten degrees cooler as he stepped out of the sun. He sat with his back against the stone wall, mildly surprised when Maes didn't join him. He looked up at his comrade, who was making the same waving motion for a second time.

"Riza! Come over here!"

A small, haggard figure paused in its path. A hood shielded her face from the sun and from those around her. There was a moment of hesitation before she walked in their direction. Once out of the light, she pulled her hood back from her face. Her cheeks were red with sunburn. She lay her rifle on the ground before wordlessly taking a seat on Roy's left side.

"Gracia sent another care package," Maes explained before Roy could ask. He sat down with a plop, radiating an enthusiasm that neither of his guests had. Eagerly, he used a knife to cut open the tape at the top of the box. When he pulled out the letter on top, his eyes shone.

Riza frowned slightly. Did he really need an audience for this? Yet she remained silent when Roy didn't say anything. He normally wouldn't hesitate to call Maes out for wasting time or for being overzealous. Whatever this was, there was some sort of point to it.

Maes smiled like a fool as he read the letter, his lips moving as his eyes moved over the page. Riza felt a sharp pang of envy at his joy. She didn't begrudge him his happiness, but it was almost false in its outward appearance.

"Maes," Roy snapped, his tone barely covering the acid beneath. "You can read that later, can't you?"

"Oh, fine," Maes huffed. "Hold on." He turned the pages of the letter, shuffling them one behind the other. "Here.

 _'Roy,_

 _Here's a new bar of soap and a toothbrush. Also, Maes says that you've been chewing on your fingernails, so here's some gum. Maybe that will help you kick the habit.'"_

Maes handed him the objects in question as he read.

"' _He told me that you could probably use a comb, so you'll find one of those, too. Of course, you also have the next book in that series you're fond of."_

Riza was surprised to see the corners of his mouth lift as he took the thick paperback from the box.

"' _Riza,_

 _Maes hasn't told me much about you, yet. But let me say thank you for saving his life. It makes me feel better knowing that there's someone watching out for these two. I can only imagine what you might need. The cloth bag has anything and everything I could think of that the military might not provide for a woman. There's also soap and a toothbrush for you, same as Roy.'"_

She took the bag from Maes and ran her finger over the cloth. There was no reason for her to expect such generosity, and she was undeniably touched. When Maes continued, she turned her attention back to him.

"' _If there's something you need, please tell Maes so that I can send it. Don't be as stubborn as Roy, okay? I'll be able to send you something a little more useful next time. For now, if you need a book, borrow one from the boys. Tell them that I said to share._

 _Stay safe, you three.'"_

Maes flipped the page over. "And that's that."

"That's very generous of her," Riza mused, surprised at the kindness of a complete stranger.

"Hey, the dynamic duo's turned into the three musketeers." Maes shrugged. "Like it or not, you're a part of our little family now."

She knew that Roy was looking at her. She was still so angry with him after the incident in the tower, after everything that had been said and done. But, out here, maybe it would be best to forgive and forget. They had to survive, no matter what the cost. She didn't have to hate him, but she also didn't have to love him. With a nod, she repeated "The three musketeers, hm?"


End file.
